


Nostalgia

by ChickenXD



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenXD/pseuds/ChickenXD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryuuji is now an old man in the hospital, having a nice friendly chat with Ryouta<br/>(basically Isa died and Ryuuji didn't and he lived to old age</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nostalgia

“Hey, dad.”

Ryouta carefully closed the door behind him and walked into the room. 

The room was bright – all the curtains were open, and rich, bright sunlight flooded the room, as it would at a beach – only the room was cold. The low murmur of the air conditioner could be heard, and the air smelled… clean, sterile. 

And sitting in the middle of the room was a white bed, with a man lying there. He slowly turned his head upon hearing the door creak open –

“Oh, Ryouta!”

Ryuuji cracked a smile upon seeing his son. Ryouta placed the books he was carrying on the nightstand, before pulling a chair to sit next to the bed. 

“How’ve you been, dad?”

“I’m fine! Although hospital food sucks,” Ryuuji replied cheerfully – despite his crippling illness, he still hasn’t lost that energy and spirit. 

“Sorry… I’d bring you something, but the hospital won’t let me give them to you.”

“That’s fine!” Ryuuji replied, “Although… really, the hospital should recognize that I’m going to die no matter what anyways.”

“Well, we all die, no matter what,” Ryouta sighed, “I brought you some books, to keep you company.”

“That’s thoughtful of you! Thank you!”

Ryuuji casually took the book at the top of the stack and scanned the cover – 

“Ah, I remember this book!” he said as he flipped the cover, “Isa-kun gave it to me for my birthday.”

Ryouta couldn’t help but stiffen up slightly –

That name again. Isa… Isa Souma. 

“It’s been so long,” Ryuuji said, reading the little note written on the first page, “Look, it’s from fifty years ago. Time sure goes by quick, huh? Now I’m just a dying old man.”

The note was short and simple – “Happy birthday, Dr. Kawara. I hope this will be a good year for you and I wish you success in whatever you do.”

A little piece of him, frozen in time.

“You’re probably sick of hearing me talk about him, aren’t you, Ryouta?” Ryuuji asked as he turned to look at Ryouta, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.”

Or so Ryouta said, but not really. 

Whoever this Isa is… Ryouta had never seen him, or known him – and yet, for as long as he could remember, Ryuuji had never stopped talking about him. 

About how great and hardworking he was, or how smart he was…

“Do you remember anything about him?” 

Ryouta shook his head. 

“He came to visit our house a few times, when you were a baby,” Ryuuji explained, “Sometimes he’d come over on weekends and your mum would let him play with you. And you went to his funeral too, but I guess there’s not much to remember there…”

Ryuuji sighed as he closed the book, placing it next to his body. 

Both of them fell silent then, and for some reason, it seemed to grow tense. 

Ryouta knew. Now that Isa Souma had been brought up, there would be some rambling, and maybe at the end, Ryuuji would cry again. 

Ryouta simply couldn’t understand why. Not like Isa Souma was part of their family or anything – he was just another friend of Ryuuji’s, isn’t that right? So why does Ryuuji care for him so much? 

Isa was like a ghost of the past, haunting Ryuuji even fifty years past his death. 

Neither Ryuuji nor his wife wanted to talk in detail about him for some reason, but every year near Christmas Ryuuji would go to his grave, clean the grave put a few red roses, and sit to talk to him for hours and hours… 

As if Isa was his own beloved son. 

Sometimes Ryouta couldn’t help but feel jealous, too – only to remember that he’s still alive, and Isa isn’t. Isa should be the one who’s jealous of him, shouldn’t he?

 

“Do you mind?” Ryuuji asked, breaking the silence – “If I talk about him again?”

“Go ahead.”

Ryuuji’s dying soon anyways, and once he dies, maybe this ghost… Isa’s ghost, will forever leave Ryouta’s life, too. Talking about him one last time wouldn’t hurt. 

“You see, Isa was… a good friend of mine.”

“I know that much,” Ryouta sighed, “Or else you wouldn’t go to his grave every year.”

“I mean, that’s the least I can do,” Ryuuji replied, “It’s not like he has any family who’ll do that for him. 

“He was about fifteen when he died,” Ryuuji said, “Even today, I have no idea what illness struck him. It was just… quick, you know?

“It was just… sitting there during the last few hours of his life, unable to do anything but watch him die…”

Ryuuji sighed as he raised his hand to wipe away a tear. 

“Man, I remember it like it was yesterday,” he continued, “He was... just hugging me, crying and just whimpering… “Sir, it hurts so much,” over and over again, and then he fell silent for an hour, and died.”

Ryuuji fell silent again, looking out of the window. The low murmur of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room for a while –

Ryuuji must be trying to remember. 

“I was the only one he had, and at the end, I couldn’t do anything to help him,” Ryuuji said, resigned, “It’s been tough without him. My mind just keeps rewinding to that day…

“What could I have done differently? Could I have saved him?”

“Maybe not, but you’ve saved many others,” Ryouta cut in, “Nageki, for example.”

“Nageki…”

Ryuuji pondered for a while, trying to find that name in the pages of his memory. 

“Ah, I remember!” Ryuuji exclaimed, “He was an orphan too, right? And he had an autoimmune disease?”

“Everyone called his recovery a miracle,” Ryouta said, forcing a smile – “And it was all thanks to you.”

“So what you’re getting at is that I saved many more people than the one I lost, and I shouldn’t get too worked up over it?”

Ryouta nodded. 

“Well, I tried thinking that, too,” Ryuuji said, “But after a while, every time I saved someone, rather than thinking… hooray! I saved someone! It became more…”

Ryuuji sighed again. 

“You know, the guilt just kind of came back. I could save this person, why couldn’t I have saved Isa?”

A sad, thin smile was drawn on Ryuuji’s lips. 

“I guess I should say sorry to you, too,” Ryuuji said, “Your mum often told me you feel like I don’t care enough for you. Is that true?”

Ryouta thought about this for a second – say yes and be honest, or say no to not make Ryuuji worry more…

Ryouta gave a nod. 

Ryuuji probably wouldn’t care that much, since he’s dying soon. 

Ryuuji turned to Ryouta then, his expression suddenly somber, melancholic. 

“...sorry, Ryouta.”

“Don’t fret over it,” Ryouta said, honestly – “I couldn’t have asked for another dad.”

“Maybe… I was blaming myself too hard about what happened to Isa,” Ryuuji said, “And you had to suffer the consequences, too.”

“Am I… nothing like him?”

“You’re nothing like him,” Ryuuji said, “Isa was cold, but he’s just lonely. He can be nice to people if he trusts them enough. He’s smart, too, and hardworking.” 

Ryuuji paused for a while, “Not that you aren’t any of those things, Ryouta… sorry if it sounds like I’m…”

“I know, I know.”

Ryuuji fell silent again, turning to look out of the window. 

 

“...well, I suppose I’ll be joining him soon anyways.”

Ryuuji cracked a smile on that thought. 

“I wonder what it’ll be like,” he said, “I’ll finally know what the afterlife is like. I hope he’s been doing well, too, but I guess we’ll find out. Has he been seeing those flowers I give him every year?”

“I’m sure he has, dad.”

“I’m going to have to say sorry to him for not being able to do anything back then, too. Do you think I should bring something for him? He used to like rice crackers.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind. It’s been fifty years, after all.”

“But will you burn some crackers later? Or bring it to my grave?”

Ryouta nodded. 

“Take care of your mum,” Ryuuji said, “Think about it, I probably didn’t make her very happy either…

“Man, at the end, I haven’t really been able to accomplish anything, huh?” Ryuuji sighed, “I’m not that good of a father, husband, or doctor.”

“Come on, dad, cut it out,” Ryouta said, “You tried your best, and there’s nothing more you can do anyway.”

Ryouta got up and leaned over, hugging Ryuuji tightly. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” he said, “I love you, dad.”

Ryuuji was silent for a while, as if revelling in the warmth – but he cracked a smile, and nodded. 

Maybe, in another place, another time, that could've been Isa, holding him tight and telling him he'd done well, he'd done everyhing he could, and everyhing was the way it should be.

He let go of Ryouta, then patted him on the back.

“I love you too, Ryouta.”

“I’ll be back next week, okay?” Ryouta said as he got up, “Should I bring you anything?”

“I’ll think of something,” Ryuuji replied, “But it’s fine if you don’t bring anything. I just need someone to talk to.”

Ryouta put the chair back and headed for the door. As he closed the door, he could see that Ryuuji was focused on reading the book Isa had given him. 

 

Two knocks on the door, and then it creaked open. 

Ryuuji turned to look at the door. It was way past visiting hours, so who could it be?

Walking into the room was a familiar figure – too familiar, in fact, only Ryuuji hadn't seen him in fifty years. 

“Isa-kun?”

Isa walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Ryuuji. He reached his hand over to take Ryuuji's hand –

He felt... real. The hand holding his was warm and tender –

Isa smiled, brining Ryuuji's hand up to cup his cheek. 

It's been so long – too long, in fact – all those years Ryuuji spent mourning, wishing he was still alive.

But now Isa's here, right in front of Ryuuji's eyes. 

“Isa-kun,” Ryuuji muttered, as if in disbelief, “It's really you..."


End file.
